


A Planned Encounter

by Psuedonym (orphan_account)



Category: Original Work, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Come Eating, Creampie, F/F, F/M, Multi, No Romance, Other, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/Other, Threesome- F/NB/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-13 21:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Psuedonym
Summary: His partner Delia has a friend. They've all had an encounter once, a drunken accident. But what happens when they plan to do it again? And this time, they'll get their fantasies worth.





	1. It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of the couple's adventure begins in their planned encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited for dialogue and spacing 5/27/18

He paused in front of the door, just slightly to the side, as if willing it to open. From his left, Delia’s arm reached out to meet it, knocking in a pattern. Tap-tap-ta-ta-tap-tap-ta-tap. Their host welcomed them inside, offering tea, water. Obligatory nonsense. He already knew what he wanted, and it wasn’t something you could get in a cup. He smiled internally at the pleasantries, even as his face remained quite still and hard to read, as it always was. Delia accepted, having taken tea with their host many times before. She made herself at home, bouncing down onto the couch with a radiant smile, and patting the space beside her for him to sit as their host prepared two cups of tea. He watched lightly as they scurried back and forth, swooping up an ingredient there, the water here. They glanced over at the pair occasionally, a slight air of anxiety blooming in their eyes. He understood why on some level but was privately confused. Isn’t what they had all wanted? 

“Although,” he thought lazily, perhaps Delia hadn’t talked to her friend since the day at the pool. He had almost felt jealous that day. Delia hadn’t answered her phone while swimming and he had desperately needed her as the panic creeped back into his mind. Only Delia had any skill at soothing him, though he knew she was trying to find him a therapist. He shook his head, barely perceivably, and turned back to the task at hand. Their host showed them around as the tea steeped, pointing out a new game system that the host and their partner had recently acquired. They asked if he wanted to play, but, truth be told, it really wasn’t his thing, matter at hand notwithstanding. He ruminated on the thought of their host’s partner, wondering how much he knew about what was about to happen. He knew enough of their host to be certain a conversation had taken place, but a small seed of doubt lingered. Despite the desire, he wasn’t sure how he would feel if Delia was in the same position as their host. On second thought, he did know, and he didn’t like it, hence the seed of doubt he supposed. Though on some level it really wasn’t his business, aside from how it related to him.   
For the next ten minutes, Delia and their host chatted aimlessly over their tea. He didn’t say much, not because he didn’t have anything to say, par se, but more do to a compulsion to analyze the situation. It intrigued him, the dynamic between them all, and part of his brain felt the need to dedicate its processing power to figuring out exactly how they had ended up here. Eventually Delia coaxed their host over the couch, and they all laid down on it, resembling a set of spoons, each nestled into the other. He was at the wall, it was cool at his back, with Delia in front of him, and their host on the edge of the folded down couch. He closed his eyes briefly and adjusted himself, playfully fingering the edge of Delia’s skirt, which lay higher than intended on her body because of laying down. She squirmed, and it only made him need to adjust more, which didn’t help the situation, as he was continually tempted to disturb her skirt mischievously. To be honest, such behavior was relaxing to him, defusing the tension that was building in the air. He redrapped his arm over Delia and brushed the edge of their host’s side. They shivered and moved slightly against Delia. She complained of chills and stood up from the pile to turn the air conditioning off. Momentarily, the host and him locked eyes. Their eyes were wide, mouth slightly parted. If he escalated this in the right way, he knew what would happen.

Between the two, he supposed he was the most likely to make a move. The other two were two nervous, giggling when their feet accidentally brushed, or certain body parts drifted too close together. Perhaps if they moved to a different locale, such maneuverings would elicit a different reaction. He pointed out that while their host had shown him the gaming room, they hadn’t given a tour of the bedroom yet. He could see their body stiffen slightly at the request, but he knew it was just nerves. Based on the other weekend, they wanted this as much as he did. They stretched up from the couch and beckoned their guests to follow.

The bedroom was small, messy in some ways, tidy in others, a reflection of its occupants. What was put away bordered on meticulous in its presentation, clothes organized by color on racks, books by subject. What wasn’t put away was in cheerful disarray, homey almost in appearance. The bed was no exception. He could tell that it had been made, all the layers were present. But the pillows lay in odd configurations, no doubt the result of someone propping themselves up in bed to read, study, or to… a small stain betrayed confirmation to his next thought, and he stared at it slightly longer than necessary. He sat down on the bed, not waiting for permission. This had gone on long enough. The two joined him, their unsureness at what to do palpable. It was funny, almost, considering how forward they had been those weekends ago, but perhaps it was that forwardness previous that rendered them timider now. He toyed with Delia lightly, working her up. A well-placed hand here, a skirt hem nudged there. She shuddered. It wasn’t that she was easy, simply sensitive, especially now, with her fantasies so close at hand. His too, for that matter. He wondered if the same rang true for their host. They sat down on the bed next to them, reclining on their hands, legs spread slightly, looking at the pair. 

“May I?” He asked, hand approaching the hem of their simple skirt. He couldn’t, didn’t want, to wait any longer. Delia looked on, wide eyed. They had discussed the boundaries of the situation before hand, but nothing tests you quite like in the moment. He decided she was ok, looked more turned on than upset or jealous. Their host nodded consent wordlessly to his request, a small strained breath escaping their soft small mouth. He laid the hem of the skirt back smoothly on their lap and sucked in a breath at the view. Lacy, light blue, translucent underwear was his reward, cheekily clad in more fabric in the place of his interest. Delia panted at the sight, and he could tell that their host was feeling a bit smug and pleased at their reactions. 

“Do you like it?” They asked. “I just got them.” Before either of them could react, their host made a small turn on the bed, and lifted the skirt from the back. “Shows off my best ass-et, don’t you think?” They joked. Their posterior truly was their best asset, the underwear squeezed over it like a ripe peach. 

“Shit”, he murmured quietly. Delia reached out and stroked the fabric, transfixed. It was obvious their host’s confidence was growing at the situation, making them more prone to act proactively, and provocatively. 

“Look, the bra matches too,” they said, yanking off their nondescript tee-shirt. “I think this is the best fitting bra I’ve had in years,” they joked. The bra did match, in color and style, all lace and mouth watering openings. It fit almost like a bralette or a closely fit crop top, ending lower than a bra and exposing a strip of skin on their hosts soft midriff.   
“Would you like to join them?” he asked the slightly starstruck Delia. 

“Yes please,” she replied, and he helped her out of her dress, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor. 

“Now you have to join the no shirt club” joked their host flirtatiously. He complied, and they all spent a few moments ogling each other’s chests. He was proud of his. He didn’t have much muscle, but he was long and lean with attractive angles. 

“May I?” asked Delia of their host, gesturing towards the bra. 

“You’ll have to make me,” teased the other. 

Now this game, he could play.


	2. Warmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The couple's adventure continues as things get hot and heavy in their planned encounter

Delia shared a look with him, and quickly they coordinated together to wrangle the bra off their mischievous host. He grabbed their arms, pulling them back against his chest, almost uncomfortably intimate. They gasped, and gaped up at him, scandalized. He merely raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment, cool expression back in place to disguise the blush creeping up his body. In grabbing them, their rear was now firmly positioned up against his groin, and the pressure, however light it was, was tantalizing. While he inadvertently distracted their host, Delia positioned herself in front and began work on the lacy bralette. Luckily, it clasped in front, but the ease of it did not stop her from getting distracted by the planes of skin below the bra. She grazed her hand against them, savoring the shiver that ran through their host’s body. With a rye look from him, she rolled her eyes and refocused on the task at hand. She slowly undid the clasp of the bralette, and gasped, startled at what the parting of the fabric revealed.

“You didn’t!’ she exclaimed in breathless wonder. The perky nipple of their hosts left bosom adorned something she had never seen on her friend before, a small, rose gold heart that circled the nipple like a cheeky invitation to go ahead and take a taste. Which she did, of course, unable to resist temptation as her friend had expected. She lapped her tongue over the nipple, savoring the mild metallic taste of the piercing and the salt of the skin. Their host reacted immediately. Their nipples were one of the most sensitive spots of their body, and it showed. They arched back into him, driving themselves harder into his groin, flaring his desire, pushing it towards unbearable. He huffed lustily and tugged at their hair absentmindly. They let out a half moan half squeak and their mouth dropped open to pant in pleasure. 

“Fuck…” They whispered under their breath, “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” They ground their hips against him in anticipation, only making him harder. “You know,” They murmured, “Even after all this, I wasn’t sure if you were sure. You’re hard to read sometimes, you know.” They trailed off, glancing over their shoulder at him.  
“Oh, I know” They two replied in unison, her response cheeky, and his bathed in desire. Their eyes met across their host. Hers was almost pleading, an unspoken question of an allowance to move forward with the night’s activities. He blinked slowly in affirmative. Her unsureness was sweet, but his discomfort was melting away into his hormones, and he was now in his element. “Perhaps after this I’ll be able to have a decent conversation with them again,” he thought in bemusement, “Without the strain of this moment on my mind.” He reached around and tugged the bra fully off, tossing it onto the floor.

Delia stroked them gently, admiring their asymmetric beauty. It only made sense for their piercing to be on the left side, as it drew attention to the slightly smaller breast. Her own breasts, on the other hand, were heavy, hanging like over-ripened fruit from a swollen tree. They too were pierced, and as sensitive as their friends. Delia suddenly got an idea. She smiled and picked her right breast and matched it to her friend’s left. She rubbed the pierced nipples together slowly and both sighed in pleasure. He wasn’t sure how much harder he could get at this point, but the show of the two nipples being rubbed together sensually certainly didn’t help. He gyrated his hips against their host slightly, causing them to murmur with quiet pleasure. He shot a look over at Delia. 

“How much foreplay is enough?” He wondered. “For that matter, how much foreplay could he take?” He craned his neck down to their right shoulder and nipped at the skin. A promising shudder blossomed in response. “One strategy,” He supposed, “Would be to keep going until they beg for it”. The thought was a turn on, and it would make what he knew Delia so desperately craved into a hell of a finale. “Or a middle,” He reasoned, “If we don’t desire to stop there.” We. What an odd thought. What had started as a fantasy, their host asleep on their couch those months ago, so close to their coupling, had become an actual, tantalizing event. And here they all were, smack in the middle of it. With such matters in mind, he shifted his position on the bed. With a swift movement, he pushed their host forward, as Delia shifted backward to accommodate. They were now facedown in front of Delia’s groin. He gave their body a tug to face them upwards again. Their body moved, obeying his hands. “So pliable,” He thought, and shivered. He knew that their host had no definite position as dominate or subordinate, though he wasn’t nearly as sure how he knew this information, but now they were definitely behaving submissively. The pressure against his pants grew too much to bear at the parsing of this information, so he scooted back and shimmied out of them, leaving only his boxers to cover what would soon no longer be left to the imagination. “Well?” He drawled, tilting his head at the pair. “What are you waiting for?” In his movements he had positioned their host perfectly below Delia’s pussy. Extrapolating from the last time, as well as pieces of conversation, he knew that their host had a particular craving for working their way around a vagina. A temptation he did not expect them to resist. Delia shuddered quietly, looking very hot and bothered herself. She lifted her skirt eagerly and shimmed off her underwear. They were a simple pair, of no interest to their host, who cared more about what was underneath. Not a half second after Delia had removed them, their host set to work, crinking their head upward slightly to reach their tongue up into Delia’s warm depths.  


“Oh fuck,” muttered Delia as their soft tongue broached her folds and lapped against her slit. They sucked at her clit enthusiastically, coaxing load moans and shudders from Delia’s body. She braced her hands on the bed, propping herself up slightly so she wouldn’t accidentally sit on her friend’s face. Not that their host would care much, aside from the cut off of their air supply.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not yet finished!


End file.
